Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY. I do, however, own my own characters. I am not profiting from this story.
A sharp voice shook me from my slumber. The voice—female—sounded exasperated, or at least annoyed. A male baritone shot back, resolution coloring his tone. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel tension in the air. I didn't want to involve myself in this conversation, at least not yet. I feigned sleep.
"I understand you want to wake him, but we don't know the extent of his amnesia. The risks are too high," spoke the baritone.
"The chart only says amnesia, and Ozpin told us he can still fight. What's more, he's physically fine, Aura's at 100%," said the female voice.
"But who knows where his psyche is at?"
"If he can fight, his psyche seems okay to me."
"It's not that…I'm worried how he'll react when he sees us."
The female scoffed. "He'll be fine, we'll make introductions. He's not crazy."
Silence followed.
"Adrian, I don't want to lose this opportunity," the female said, her tone somewhat softer.
"If I may," interjected a third voice, a lighter tenor. "There's a compromise to be had here. How's about we wake Phoenix and ask him which he'd like to do?"
The female hummed, and I could hear her smirk. The next to speak, however, was the first male voice—Adrian. "Don't think you've won, Terra."
"Oh, but I have."
"He's impulsive, but not that impulsive. I know him better than you."
Impulsive? Me? My spike of irritation at the comment disappeared as I recalled slamming open the door at the facility and recovering Recursive Nature without a single moment's hesitation.
Yeah, I suppose impulsive was an apt descriptor.
"Besides," Adrian said. A pause ensued, then a weight hit my chest, causing my eyes to flutter open. "He's already awake."
As my eyes focused in the harsh morning sunlight, I saw three figures standing at the foot of my bed—my teammates, if Ozpin was true to his word. I was excited to finally meet them.
The location of his voice pegged Adrian as the figure on my left, his blond hair disheveled and his blue eyes giving me a sharp stare. To my right, dark brown curls covered part of Terra's tanned complexion, her visible hazel eye sporting surprise. To the middle stood a burly, dark-haired young man. His purple eyes shone in the sunlight.
"How'd you know?" I asked, opening the burlap sack on my chest.
The unnamed male and Terra looked to Adrian, who merely shrugged. "Lucky guess."
The one in the middle gave a sharp laugh, while Terra rolled her eyes. "Enjoy your fun while you can, Adrian," she said.
As Adrian and Terra continued their back-and-forth, I observed the bag's contents, now arrayed on my bedsheets. Various arm-guards, armor plates, and ammunition magazines rested on my legs. The armor looked spotless, clearly well-maintained, and the ammunition magazines appeared brand new.
"So, Terra, what's this opportunity?" I asked. The conversation between the two outside members ceased and refocused towards me.
"The thirty-eighth Vytal Festival will be held in a month in Atlas. Qualification matches take place this week," Terra said.
"And the Vytal Festival is…" I trailed off, hoping to prompt an explanation.
Adrian supplied one. "The Vytal Festival is a gathering of all four Kingdoms of Remnant—Vale, Vacuo, Mistral, and Atlas—with the goal of celebrating peace and strength. Parades and galas are a given, but the crown jewel of the Festival is the combat tournament. Teams of fighters from each combat school vie for the prize of being the greatest Huntsman-in-training in all of Remnant."
"So, our chance to compete in this inter-Kingdom competition comes today?"
Adrian nodded. "Exactly. Goodwitch is facilitating qualification matches today. However, once a team enters, that exact collection of fighters must progress through each stage. There have been teams in the past that have lost a member to the Grimm, so teams of three are not an uncommon sight at the Vytal Festival."
"And if you three advanced without me, I couldn't fight in the tournament."
"That's why we need you to strap that armor on and follow us to the dueling hall," Terra said.
My first instinct was to join the three across from me and fight. After all, my fighting abilities weren't lost with my memory, and Recursive Nature made me somewhat adaptable. Further, if I opted to sit out, then my team would be at a severe disadvantage. Three combatants against the normal four did not bode well for my team.
But as I swept my gaze across my teammates, a counterargument surfaced. I didn't even know my teammates's names—how could I possibly fight an unknown enemy with an equally unknown ally? I would be a hindrance on the battlefield, an accident waiting to happen.
I could either shoot my team in the foot or play Vacuo Roulette.
"I'm in."
Team APCT made good time across the campus green. Terra took point and guided us towards the amphitheater-turned-dueling-hall. Caelum—I finally learned his name—typed onto a digital device, likely alerting Glynda of our imminent arrival. Adrian and I occupied the rear, the former bringing me up to speed on the basics of each's fighting style.
"Let's start with the 'A' of the team, yours truly. My weapon is named 'Riptide,' a quarterstaff and sniper rifle combination that allows me to view the battle as a whole. I'm the team strategist, and I often make commands from the edges of a fight."
"And your Semblance?"
Adrian paused. "It's a mental Semblance. Not illusions or anything like that, but not enough to have a great effect on the battlefield." He seemed reluctant to continue. I let it lie.
"Next, the team's 'P.' Your weapon gives you an adaptable edge. I don't know how much you've experimented with Recursive Nature, but you prefer your longsword.
"Caelum, our 'C,' battles with his violin and bow, named 'Melody' and 'Harmony' respectively. When Aura is channeled into the violin, it can emit sound waves capable of delivering varying types of force, from broad sweeps to precise strikes, depending on the pitch. However, as physics dictates, sound waves lose power the farther away they are from their source, so Caelum cannot function as a long-range fighter. In hand-to-hand, Harmony can double as a rapier. His Semblance allows him to bend light, so he's very difficult to sneak up on.
"Finally, our 'T' prefers close combat, aided by her monkey wrench bludgeon 'Brisk Solution.' If no one is close enough to clobber, Brisk Solution can transform into a shotgun. Terra can dish out plenty of damage, and her Semblance, force projection, offers her some amount of cover."
"Force projection?"
"She can create small, nearly indestructible structures in space. However, once they're made, they can't move, and she must supply more Aura the greater the force applied to one. They're great for stopping bullets or changing direction but impractical as a long-term shield."
At first blush, our team looked well-rounded. Long-range, short-range, and melee all had their respective warriors. I remained in between them all, a true jack-of-all-trades.
"Who's our enemy?"
Adrian shook his head. "The process is randomized. Professor Goodwitch is about to assign dueling pairs as we speak."
I adjusted an arm-guard absentmindedly as we ran. The buildings and dormitories surrounded us as we jogged past, the gothic architecture giving off an air of importance. I wondered which one was our dormitory, which ones held the collective history of team APCT.
"So," Adrian began. "What's it like to know nothing?"
I rolled my eyes. "I don't know nothing, I know almost nothing."
"Technicalities, technicalities," Adrian said. "But really, how are you feeling?"
"Physically, I'm fine. Mentally? I'm not sure," I replied. "I got flashes of our battle in the forest at dinner last night."
"I see," he said simply. He paused, then asked, "And what happened afterwards? Where did you end up?" Adrian's tone placed more weight on the question than appeared at face value. I guessed he felt a sense of responsibility when I disappeared without a trace. I needed to reassure him.
"I woke up in an Atlesian facility. I think they got a hold of me somehow, but I'm not sure. Just know I wouldn't have gone willingly."
Adrian seemed to relax a bit. The conversation over, we focused on navigating to the dueling hall.
Soon, we entered the main thoroughfare of campus. Darting to our left, we ran past flag-draped lampposts and the fountain. Upon reaching the heavy oak doors, Terra shouldered them open. Groans sounded from the metal hinges. We filed in.
The hall was as impressive as its stone façade outside. High, arching ceilings and large picture windows allowed natural light to diffuse through the amphitheater. In front of me was a raised circular stage. Ringing the stage, maybe fifteen feet off the ground, were spectator seats, where my classmates currently sat.
All eyes turned to us.
"Welcome to the dueling hall, Mr. Hayes. I'm glad you could join us for today's matches," said Professor Goodwitch from the stage. At her greeting, murmurs broke out among the students assembled.
Surprised to see me, no doubt.
"Please join your classmates in the seating area. The matches will begin shortly."
Adrian led us up to the seats. Once we found a suitable bench, my leader gave a command to Terra and Caelum. Without a word, they hurried out of the hall.
"They'll be back shortly with our weapons," he explained. Motioning to my wrist, he said, "Looks like you have yours already."
I looked at my wristwatch. Recursive Nature was about to make its debut.
Cradling a tablet, Professor Goodwitch turned to address the students. "Good morning," she said. A few students mumbled a reply. "Today marks the beginning of the qualification process for the Vytal Festival. Over the coming two weeks, we hope to assemble the best collection of teams for the combat tournament in Atlas."
A few taps on her tablet summoned a large holographic display behind her, visible to all students. "A total of thirty-two teams compete in the tournament, with each combat school supplying eight. Unlike other schools, Beacon selects its teams through a year-conscious process, meaning each team competes against teams of their own year. Intra-year fights occur during the first week." Diagrams appeared on the display behind Professor Goodwitch, illustrating her points.
"When two teams from each year have been selected, the remaining eight teams face off to determine seeding. Inter-year fights take place in the second week of qualification matches. While seeding usually aligns with experience, with four-year teams taking the top two seeds and first-years occupying the bottom two, there have been instances of upsets in previous years."
Terra and Caelum took their spots next to Adrian, soundlessly handing their leader his quarterstaff and some armor plating. The three assembled their gear while Professor Goodwitch continued her monologue.
"As with all Vytal Festivals, I wish you luck. Know that Beacon has prepared you well. If you continue to the tournament, remember that you represent the finest academy in all of Remnant. Victory is yours for the taking."
A smattering of applause signaled the end of Professor Goodwitch's speech. As the applause faded, the professor turned to face the display. "I shall begin the randomization process," she said, attending to her tablet. Team names began to cycle on the holographic screen, much like a slot machine. The prize, however, was not Lien, but a battle.
My kind of a prize.
The display flashed. The spinning array of names on the left had stopped. Team BGDY was fated for the first match. "Team 'burgundy' will make a formidable opponent. Bianca White, Griffin Woods, Dylan Moore, and Yara Kouri, please take your place on the dueling floor." Four figures, two male and two female, descended the stairs to the stage. All four watched the holographic projection, eager to discover their adversary. Professor Goodwitch touched her tablet, and the wheel of names on the right slowed.
APCT stared back at me.
"Their challenger is… team APCT. Adrian Douglas, Phoenix Hayes, Caelum Carr, and Terra Carbone, please take your place on the dueling floor."
A familiar rush of adrenaline flowed through my veins. A glance at the rest of my team showed similar game faces. Even Caelum, who I took to be a happy-go-lucky type, sported a serious demeanor. We rose as one and walked to the stage.
I cracked my knuckles. It was show time.
After a spiel about battle etiquette and non-lethal blows, Professor Goodwitch allowed the two teams a few minutes to plan. As ready as I was to fight, I did not know my opponent. Given Adrian's calm mien, I suspected he did.
"Who're we up against?" I asked my leader.
"Team BGDY, known for their better-than-average battle record. Their leader, Bianca White, fights with a gravity Dustcaster. Her Semblance hasn't yet been confirmed, as it isn't flashy, but it likely complements her choice in weapon." I looked across the stage and saw Bianca twirling her staff, conversing with her teammates. Her white battle outfit and golden armor pieces shone in the bright stage lights.
"Next, Griffin Woods uses a ball-and-chain weapon. He's a brute, and I think that his size allowed him to skirt more advanced Aura training. As such, his Semblance has not been unlocked, or at least isn't effective enough to be used in battle." Clad in knight's armor, Griffin looked imposing. He towered over his leader and sported a scowl.
"Third, where Griffin acts like a Nevermore, Dylan fights like a hummingbird—swift, but ultimately lacking strength. He prefers his double pistols, but he can be a bother at close quarters. His Semblance seems like teleportation, as he can pop into and out of space, but after some study, I've concluded it has something to do with time, not space. I'm not entirely sure what it is, though." Dylan, tiny in comparison to his giant of a teammate, fiddled with his pistols.
"Finally, Yara Kouri fights with fans. She's a great hand-to-hand brawler, and her fans allow her to channel her Semblance, wind control, to toss around lighter enemies. She lacks range, though, so I'll focus on taking her out with Riptide." Yara opened and closed her fans several times while I studied her—a tic, no doubt. She wore a flowing cotton gown, sashed at the waist with a thin belt.
"Terra, focus on Griffin. Caelum, Dylan. And Phoenix, you take Bianca."
"Yes, sir," I said, giving him a mock salute.
Adrian rolled his eyes. "Save it, Phoenix. We have to win first."
"I don't intend to lose," I replied. I took Terra's smirk as a sign of agreement, while Caelum gave a chuckle. Activating my Semblance, Recursive Nature left my wrist and fell into my palm, whirring as it morphed. When it fell silent, I gave the broadsword a spin.
"Seems like we're ready then," said our leader. He smiled. "Let's fight."
"Your time for preparation is up," said Professor Goodwitch. The hall fell silent in anticipation. BGDY faced us, their faces set for battle. "Remember, when a fighter's Aura has dropped into the red, he or she may not fight any longer and must leave the battlefield," the blonde reminded us.
A bell chimed. "Begin."
Immediately, Griffin charged forward, swinging his chain mace above his head. Dylan ran behind him, while Bianca and Yara stayed put. Terra took point and met Griffin's charge, brandishing Brisk Solution. Arriving a moment later, Caelum deflected blows from Dylan, Harmony in its rapier form. The sound of metal meeting metal sounded through the hall.
Rounding the skirmish, I heard Riptide's report from behind me. A bullet whizzed past, and Yara intercepted the round with a flick of her fan. With an application of what I assumed to be her Semblance, she jumped halfway across the dueling floor, likely to trade blows with Adrian. My gaze fell back to Bianca. She shot me a wicked smile.
My battle instincts fired up, my vision narrowing in on my quarry. The noises of gunfire and brawling from behind me faded to nothing. They did not help me here. I bore down on Bianca, closing in with Aura-assisted speed.
I presented Recursive Nature. She presented her staff.
It was show time.
With a yell, I swung my sword horizontally. She parried with the shaft of her weapon, stopping my blow entirely.
She was strong, I'd give her that.
Pushing my blade aside, she answered with a strike of her own from above. I blocked it with the cross-guard of my sword, my arm jarring from the force. Directing her staff to the side with my cross-guard, I threw my left hand in a fist towards her midsection. Bianca jumped backwards, my fist missing her by an inch.
As we separated, we each took time to study each other. She glared at me with a cold detachment, one I knew was tempered by the battlefield. I only hoped she was more amiable off the dueling floor. I had to rediscover my friends, after all.
I gazed at her weapon. Her staff was a thick pole, topped with a Dust crystal. Designs snaked their way from top to bottom, likely allowing her to channel the power of the crystal. Currently, however, the glyphs lay dormant.
Then, Bianca spun her weapon towards me, the crystal and patterns on the shaft glowing. All of a sudden, a force impacted me and sent me flying through the air. The ceiling and the floor traded places, becoming a blur. Disorientation overtook me, almost causing me to lose my battle calm. But not quite.
I threw my arms outward, slowing my spin. Twisting my body, I hit the ground on my shoulder, my momentum carrying me through a roll. Jumping up, I turned around, only to be met with a staff in the ribs. As the wind left my lungs, Bianca flicked her staff upwards. The weapon glowed once more, and I followed suit.
In my flight, I glanced at the holographic screen. My Aura was at 82% of its maximum, while Bianca's taunted me with a flawless 100%.
Time to change that.
Bianca waited below me, her staff at the ready. Even as she swung the staff downwards, I braced for the inevitable hard impact. I accelerated to the floor at a great speed, but I met the floor with Aura-infused legs. I shot Bianca a smirk and stepped towards her.
Only to fall on my face.
As I attempted to scrabble to my feet, my mind raced. I was not a klutz. Surely I didn't fall due to a misstep. Her staff didn't light up, though, so it was not the Dustcaster. With human error and weapons not responsible for my fall, that left one thing.
Her Semblance. Adrian said it complemented her weapon. But her Semblance—assuming that's what caused me to face-plant—didn't throw me around, it wasn't forceful. It wasn't flashy, it was subtle.
The ground beneath me felt like ice, slippery and slick, not like the cement I knew it was. I couldn't even push myself to my knees. How could this be?
I sensed Bianca approach, followed by a heavy blow to my back. A strike to the head with the butt of her staff sent my vision swimming. I tried to regain my senses, only to feel myself leave the ground and impact the wall on the side of the stage. I fell to the ground in a heap.
I sucked in a lungful of air and shook my head. When my vision cleared, I saw Bianca running towards me, staff pointed straight at me. The holographic projection behind her showed my Aura at 39%.
A crippling headache hindered my thinking. However, even through the haze of pain, I came to two conclusions.
First, I was being beaten, badly. My opponent was not one to press her advantages lightly, and she kept me on the back foot from the very beginning.
Second, her Semblance was the ability to control friction. I belatedly remembered feeling the concrete return to its normal coarseness before she launched me across the dueling floor. Her weapon combined with her Semblance made for a deadly combination.
Time to change tactics.
I peered at my adversary as she approached. She readied her staff, and I shifted my sword to intercept the blow. Her staff impacted the metal of the blade, and the metal rang with the force of the hit. As she pulled her weapon back for another strike, I darted forwards, hoping to stab her with my sword.
Only to have my feet slip out from under me. But I was ready for that.
I threw my right arm downwards. The tip of my blade cut into the concrete. The ground beneath my feet gave me no purchase, but I paid it no mind. Instead, I pulled myself forwards, gyrating over Recursive Nature, and flew towards Bianca. Her eyes widened as my foot planted itself into her stomach. Her response, a weak staff strike, hit the flat of Recursive Nature's blade, deflected in full. Curling up, I brought my left hand around and buried my fist into her nose.
I chanced a glance upwards. Phoenix—39%, Bianca—87%.
Time to press my advantage.
Bianca's staff flared to life, but instead of throwing me around like a rag doll, it rocketed her backwards. A little bit of distance was fine by me, as Recursive Nature had already begun to shift into a laser gun. I steadied my finger over the trigger and lined up my shot.
When Bianca slid to a stop, I fired three times. Red bolts of energy flew towards her at blinding speed. Two hit her squarely in the chest, but she absorbed the third with her staff. Even as I continued to fire away, she scrambled to her feet, only managing to block about half my shots. I felt no amount of satisfaction as her Aura dropped, on course to match mine.
Until, of course, I was launched skywards.
I cursed under my breath. That pesky staff would have to go. I couldn't risk her throwing me every which way on a whim. As she tossed me away from her, I receded into Recursive Nature with my Semblance.
When Professor Goodwitch had readied the randomization process, I took time to study all the "modules," or the banded pillars that contained the different weapon designs for Recursive Nature. While I seemed to have created a wide variety of weapons and tools, I considered a specific one for the task at hand.
As I met the ground and performed a backwards somersault, I brandished a grappling hook on my right arm. The contraption was strapped to my wrist, buttons for its operation fitted snugly in my palm. Smirking, I ran towards Bianca.
She glared at me with an angry fire. When I felt the concrete turn to ice beneath me, I fired the grappling hook at the concrete wall behind her. The hook embedded into the concrete, and, with a push of a button, the chain pulled me across the hall. A shout of surprise sounded below me as I flew overhead.
Soon, my boots found the wall. Another button press retracted the hook, and a push from my legs sent me flying towards Bianca. With a yell, I activated the grappling hook. The black metal claw sped at her. Hoping to deflect the hook, Bianca raised her staff. But as the claw grasped the shaft of her weapon, she realized her mistake.
I recalled the claw, wrenching the Dustcaster out of Bianca's grip in the process. When the hook fully retracted, I turned my arm to the side and fired. At the zenith of the hook's arc across the hall, I let the staff fall. It clattered on the ground, many yards away.
I faced Bianca with a devilish grin. She faced me with a rictus of pure fury.
Phoenix—37%. Bianca—51%.
And weaponless.
Recursive Nature already forming a broadsword in my hand, I charged forward. A war cry escaped my lips, and I fell upon Bianca, swinging madly. She blocked only a few strikes of my fusillade, Aura glowing from her arms. When her Semblance caused Recursive Nature to leave my grasp, I tackled her to the ground, fists flying. I pummeled her, intent to end this battle now.
No longer was I cool or collected. No longer did I bide my time, waiting for a counterattack.
I was a force unleashed, a beast bred for the battlefield. Logic had no place when victory required unrelenting strength.
Somehow, the modicum of rationality still within me caused my eyes to track upwards, towards the holographic display. With a start, I read that Bianca's Aura was at 3%, well into the red. I ceased my attack and jumped off of her.
She had been defeated. And yet I had kept swinging. An animalistic sense of pride and satisfaction overwhelmed me, only to be beaten back by shame and guilt.
I had almost hurt a classmate. A glance to Professor Goodwitch revealed a harsh look from the blonde.
Yep, I was in trouble.
But I still had a battle to win.
As I retrieved Recursive Nature, I surveyed the other Aura meters. Out of team BGDY, only Dylan and Griffin remained. Team APCT had three members active, as Caelum's Aura was at 9%, disqualifying him from fighting any further. Mine sat at 35%, Adrian's was at 42%, and Terra's was at 24% and dropping. I located Terra to find her battling with Griffin. The brute's size had Terra at a disadvantage, and it showed, with her retreating a couple of steps every few seconds.
"Phoenix! Get over here!" called Adrian. He had his quarterstaff at the ready, trading blows with Dylan. While my leader appeared to be winning, Dylan's Semblance kept Adrian unable to tuck away a victory.
I dashed towards him. As I ran, I saw Dylan jump into the air and then vanish. Adrian gripped Riptide and balanced on the balls of his feet. A few seconds later, Dylan reappeared, continuing his flight through the air. He slashed at my leader with a twin pair of daggers, jumped backwards, and then vanished again.
The boy had an interesting Semblance, alright. I assumed he could essentially "remove" himself from time for a few seconds. Invisibility wouldn't keep his velocity vector the same in midair.
Coming to the spot where Dylan had last disappeared, I readied Recursive Nature. I counted off four seconds before the boy popped back into reality.
Right into my waiting blade.
Dylan collapsed onto the ground. A pommel strike onto the back of his head finished him off, his Aura finally below the threshold. Adrian and I traded nods and smiles. We had this match in the bag now.
A cry from Terra signaled her lack of Aura to continue. A reference to the holographic screen showed that Griffin had 23% of his Aura remaining.
"I'll provide sniper fire. Engage him in hand-to-hand," said Adrian.
I quirked an eyebrow at my leader. "Seriously, him?"
"You'll do fine," he said. "Just watch out for the mace."
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever you say, oh glorious leader of mine."
Adrian just chuckled and folded Riptide into a sniper rifle.
I ran towards Griffin, Riptide's report sounding from behind me. The brute lifted his chain mace above his head, preparing a downwards strike. As I drew near, I brought Recursive Nature upwards, intercepting his blow. However, even with time to prepare, his spiked ball forced my blade backwards, and the mace crashed into my shoulder. I winced at the strength behind the impact.
You'll do fine, he says. Just watch out for the mace, he says.
Whatever.
Bullets pinged off of Griffin's armor, wearing away at his Aura, courtesy of Adrian. Another strike came from my opponent, this time from below. I deflected the spiked ball away, only to earn a fist in the face. My vision blurry, I stabbed forwards, scoring a glancing blow on his thigh. My opponent merely grunted and slammed his chain mace into my side, throwing me several feet away.
I rubbed my side, feeling a ghost of the weapon's force. Even without looking up, I knew my Aura was in the red. It was up to Adrian now.
Another report from Riptide came, and then a piercing beep.
"Congratulations, team APCT. You have advanced to the next round of qualification matches," Professor Goodwitch announced. "Please leave the battlefield so our next match can begin."
Griffin stood next to me, anger evident on his features. "Lucky shot, blondie," he called at Adrian.
"Normally, I can't hit the broad side of a barn, but you seem to be bigger than that," Adrian called back.
Griffin growled and charged towards my leader. Then, a streak of purple energy impacted the concrete in front of him.
"That's enough, you two. The match is over," chided Professor Goodwitch. "Please clear the area." Turning to me, she said, "And Mr. Hayes, I wish to speak with you."
"Of course, Professor," I said. As I approached her, I wondered what my punishment would be.
When I stopped in front of her, the blonde appeared stern. "Mr. Hayes, I distinctly remember informing you of the rules before the match, is that right?" I gave her a sheepish nod. "Yet your actions—continuing to attack Ms. White when she was unfit to fight any further—showed a flagrant disregard for regulation and sportsmanship. I could disqualify your team."
Shame and distress gripped me. My team rolled the dice on me, waking me and inviting me to this fight. I could not let down my team now. My mind raced for the proper way to defuse the situation. I decided to begin with a simple apology.
"I'm very sorry, Professor."
"I know you are, Mr. Hayes." She paused, perhaps in contemplation. "Yet, your unique…condition is likely to blame here. After all, this is your first sanctioned battle in your memory, correct?"
Was she offering me a way out? "Yes, Professor."
"Very well. Everyone slips up from time to time. It would be unfair of me not to give you the same mulligan. Be more aware of the Aura meters in the future."
"I will."
"You are excused. Rejoin your team in the stands," she said. As I turned away, she added, "And quick thinking out there. You'll make a fine Huntsman."
I smiled. "Thank you."
I returned to my seat next to Adrian. After trading congratulations with my teammates, Adrian faced me. "So, how'd you do it?" he asked me.
"Do what?"
"Defeat Bianca? She hardly loses a match, and you beat her on the first try."
I frowned. "She was a tough opponent for sure, and her Semblance-weapon combo was great."
"What is her Semblance?" asked Caelum. Terra and Adrian sported similar inquisitive looks.
"I think it's friction control. She can manipulate the index of friction of nearby surfaces. She used it to trip and disarm me," I explained. Grinning, I added, "but I used Recursive Nature to move in her frictionless environment and to get rid of her weapon."
Adrian beamed. "Glad to see you haven't lost any of your edge."
"Me too," I replied.
The elevator played soft music as it ascended. The ride to Ozpin's office allowed me time to reflect on the day's events.
After our match, APCT watched the remainder of the morning's matches. While most didn't draw Adrian's attention, one in particular did: Team LMON dismantled the opposing team with a practiced ease. Adrian left the dueling hall lost in thought, likely contemplating possible counters. Clearly, LMON would be a daunting opponent.
Lunch followed, where I sampled a fantastic meal. Apparently, Ozpin placed nutrition as a high priority, which wasn't surprising, given the amount of physical activity burgeoning Huntsmen and Huntresses performed each day. He took good care of his students.
And now, I was in an elevator, about to meet with the headmaster.
The music stopped, and the elevator decelerated. The display on the elevator's walls pinged, letting me know I had arrived. However, right before the doors opened, a rough shout reached my ears from the room beyond. Without a single trace of hesitation, I activated my Semblance, found what I assumed were the elevator door controls, and locked the doors in place. Then, I used my Semblance again, this time causing Recursive Nature to transform into a stethoscope.
I laughed inwardly. I probably designed the stethoscope to assist with medical procedures, and yet here I was, using it to eavesdrop.
Fitting the tips over my ears, I placed the chest piece on the elevator doors. What had been muffled voices became intelligible conversation.
"They're out there, and we've lost control." A measured voice, rich even when raised. "The solution lies here."
"No, the solution lies in Atlas. You're looking for an easy way out." A calmer voice, yet still laced with frustration. Ozpin's, no doubt in my mind.
"You mean the only way out. You know what the odds are."
"I do." A pause. "But I don't endanger my friends recklessly."
"You consented before."
"That was before we discovered the consequences of our actions. Now, things are different."
"But not so different as to try again."
"Perhaps. But this is my school."
"And this is my Kingdom, Ozpin. She failed, and I will not risk her again."
"And I will not risk him again either." Another pause. "Birds bring bad luck, you know."
Many seconds passed in silence.
"Well, it seems as though we are at an impasse," said Ozpin.
"It seems we are. I have no further business with you." Steps echoed from the other side of the metal doors.
I realized that if the elevator doors did not open normally, then the ruse would be up. Hurriedly, I fixed my sabotage and hid Recursive Nature behind my back, the stethoscope whirring into a wristwatch.
The doors opened with a soft ding, revealing Ozpin's office. A dark-haired man clad in a white suit and a red tie marched towards me. A scowl was etched onto his features, but when he spied me, he erected an impassive façade. We traded places, and soon, the elevator began its descent.
With my disaster averted, I examined the headmaster's office. Windows ringed the room, giving a breathtaking view of the campus. Overhead, giant gears rotated, their hollow grinding conveying an air of formality and power. At a desk in front of me sat the headmaster himself. He poured himself a new cup of coffee from a teapot and then cleared his throat. "Welcome, Phoenix."
I stepped closer to his desk. Ozpin did not show a hint of irritation from his previous conversation. Either the man was good at compartmentalizing, or he was hiding something.
I suspected both.
"Glynda tells me you performed well in today's match. She has high expectations for APCT as the qualification rounds continue."
I nodded. "I hope to live up to those expectations. We'll show everyone that APCT is stronger than ever."
The headmaster chuckled. "Yes, indeed." He took a sip from his mug. "Now, about your return to Beacon."
I raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
"You seem to have retained your combat abilities, as evident in the results of today's match. Yet, you likely don't recall a single speck of Remnant's history, Grimm biology, or Dust manipulation, am I correct?"
I sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I have a few tatters of memory about the Grimm, but nothing useful."
"And what of Aura manipulation?"
I gathered my Aura into my palm, casting a soft glow into the room. "I think muscle memory has given some amount of control to me, but I don't remember how it operates."
Ozpin hummed. "Very well. You will take first-year history, Grimm biology, and Dust manipulation, and you will continue your second-year dueling and Aura manipulation classes. In addition, you'll take introductory level courses in the sciences and humanities, and you'll have to do a lot of reading in the coming months."
I scratched the back of my head. "I know, Professor. It's a side-effect of amnesia, apparently."
"Indeed." Another sip. The knocking of the gears overhead filled the silence.
As we stared at each other, I pondered the man across from me. During my brief reintroduction with the man, I learned he was an old soul, pragmatic but caring. Both he and Professor Goodwitch sought the betterment of the world of Remnant, yet Ozpin was less strict than Glynda. In this manner, he traded order for adaptability, a tactic absolutely necessary on the battlefield. There was no question in my mind that Ozpin was a warrior.
No, the question in my mind was how he ended up in this bizarre office of his.
His white hair and spectacles gave him an aged look, yet the fire in his eyes bespoke a timeless intelligence.
One that reduced the world into a chess game.
What experiences gave him his unique perspective? The battlefield?
I did not know, but I'd like to find out.
Another question arose in my thoughts: how did he know that I would be arriving in Vale following my escape from the facility? I did not have a Scroll—the ubiquitous phone/tablet devices students and instructors carried at Beacon—on me during my escape from Atlas. Further, as far as I could tell, Recursive Nature did not broadcast any signals, and I did not give my name to Vale ATC. I could only come to one conclusion.
Ozpin had eyes and ears in Atlas.
Time to go fishing for information.
"Professor, who was that man from earlier?"
Ozpin smiled. "His name is General Ironwood. He's the head of the Atlesian military. He's the one in charge of organizing general defense to all the Kingdoms of Remnant."
"And if you don't mind me asking, why was he here visiting?"
"As you know, the Vytal Festival will be held in Atlas this year. The general came to Vale to pick up new recruits and swung by to update me on festival preparations."
Yep, he was hiding something. But why?
"Sounds like he's putting a lot of thought into arranging this year's festival."
"Yes, he is. The Vytal Festival is a way for the host Kingdom to show the other three their finest side, the best of their hospitality. No expense will be spared."
So Ironwood was preparing for the Vytal Festival, and some unknown danger was currently prowling around in Atlas. While the Grimm was my first thought, escaped criminals or corrupt government factions could also be possible threats.
In other words, issues out of my hands and out of my league.
I understood that matters between Kingdoms must stay behind closed doors, but Ozpin's calm demeanor suggested something else. Did I have a tie to the situation? I was recently in Atlas, after all.
Then again, if every student that visited Ozpin were to discover an inkling of the troubles bedeviling the Kingdoms, then rumors would circulate that things were not under control. Rumors would bring doubt, and doubt would bring distress. Alarm. Fear.
And fear brought the Grimm.
I cursed my lack of familiarity with this man. Or rather, the disappearance of it. Without it, I could not judge the headmaster's behavior with accuracy.
I needed more information before I jumped to any conclusions. Matters of this scale required delicate thinking.
The sound of Ozpin's mug meeting the glass table shook me from my thoughts. "Well, Phoenix, I have no further matters to discuss with you. You'll receive your new class schedule tomorrow, as well as a dossier containing files on your team. In it, you can read background information about your teammates, your team's performance in class, and other, similar pieces of information."
"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without your help."
An emotion flashed in Ozpin's eyes, if for a millisecond. A smile quickly followed it, though. Strange.
Ozpin stood and turned to face the window behind his desk. "You may return to your dormitory, Phoenix. I'm sure you and your team have many things to discuss."
"I'll bet they do," I said. I caught my tongue before I uttered a farewell, though. "Uh, Professor, which one is my dorm?"
Turning around, Ozpin shot me an amused look. "Right, you don't have a Scroll." Stepping to his desk, Ozpin began to type onto its surface. When he finished, a string of numbers appeared on a holographic display. "These are your building, floor, and room numbers. Any student strolling the campus should be able to point out the building if you can't locate it on your own."
Committing the numbers to memory, I thanked Ozpin and made for the elevator. Before my finger hit the call button, though, Ozpin said, "Visit me again next week, same place and time. I want to ensure your first weeks at Beacon go smoothly."
"Will do, Professor." With that, I called the elevator, stepped in to the waiting car, and selected the ground floor. As the doors closed, I reviewed the numbers to my dormitory. With any luck, I wouldn't be searching for my building for very long.
After that, it would be time to learn about my teammates. Who were these people, my roommates and partners in battle? What sorts of things made them tick?
I was eager to find out.
A/N: So Phoenix has his first fight! Good for him.
Thank you for reading my story. I always appreciate feedback, but even if you don't write a review, know that I'm tickled that you took time out of your day to read my tale.
Until next time,
-CTech
Update (7/28): Minor adjustments, some added transitions, and closed a MAJOR plot hole. Thanks for bearing with me while I iron this thing out.